


My Arms Will Hold You, Keep You Safe And Warm

by destielsdessert



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adorable Castiel (Supernatural), Dean Being an Idiot, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Human Castiel, Hurt Castiel, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Love Confessions, M/M, Oblivious Castiel, Sick Dean Winchester, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-16 05:57:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14805665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/destielsdessert/pseuds/destielsdessert
Summary: He comes to Dean's room and hesitates before walking inside, almost knocking before realising that Dean isn't here, he doesn't need to knock. So, he just lets himself inside quietly, and finds an empty room with a huge pile of blankets on the floor, the bed naked and the TV is on, playing some show that Castiel honestly has no care for. Castiel turns to leave, and-Wait, what?He turns back around, staring at the 'blanket pile'. Why on earth is that there? He scans the room once more, before realising something that makes his blood run cold.The blankets are moving.





	My Arms Will Hold You, Keep You Safe And Warm

When Castiel wakes one morning, he doesn't expect to wake to the sound of nothing in the bunker. He's sure it isn't that late - he can't have missed Sam and Dean already, can he? - so he isn't sure where they've gone. Maybe they've gone out on a hunt without him. He wouldn't be surprised - ever since he's fallen and become human, he isn't much use on hunts anymore. He can't heal himself or anyone else, he can't teleport anybody anywhere, he's nowhere near as fast as he used to be, and he's pretty useless in a fight. All of these make him a liability.

He yawns slightly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He's still tired, exhausted even, but he knows he won't be able to sleep any longer. He slept for a couple of hours, he thinks, which is a lot for him, so he'll take it.

Castiel is ripped from his thoughts at a sudden loud, sharp noise, and he sits up in his bed immediately, heart beating a little faster than before. That was either just Sam or Dean (maybe they haven't left after all) or - and, with Castiel's luck, the more likely option - something supernatural and dangerous to his newly-human form has somehow made its way into the bunker, despite all of the warding, and it's here to kill him. Castiel figures it's the latter.

He reaches a tentative hand under his pillow where his fingers clasp around the familiar shape of his angel blade (a trick he learned from the one and only Dean Winchester), before bracing himself with a deep breath. He makes his way out of the bedroom, closing the door silently behind him, and travels through the corridors to try and locate the source of the noise. As he goes, he checks every room he passes in case the source of the noise is located in there.

He arrives in the main room, sighing quietly to himself because he still hasn't found where the noise came from and he wonders if he'll  _ever_  be cut out to be a hunter. He can't even identify  _what_  the noise he heard was, and he's instead searching the bunker for an unidentified being, knowing damn well that, whatever it is, he won't be able to defend himself against it.

There's only one more corridor of rooms to search, and Castiel is beginning to lose hope that he'll ever find it. Maybe he's beginning to go crazy - he hasn't been outside in days and has spoken to no one besides Sam and Dean for weeks. He sighs to himself again and slowly ventures through the final corridor he has to explore. He comes to Dean's room and hesitates before walking inside, almost knocking before realising that Dean isn't here, he doesn't need to knock. So, he just lets himself inside quietly, and finds an empty room with a huge pile of blankets on the floor, the bed naked and the TV is on, playing some show that Castiel honestly has no care for. Castiel turns to leave, and-

Wait,  _what_?

He turns back around, staring at the 'blanket pile'. Why on earth is that there? He scans the room once more, before realising something that makes his blood run cold.

The blankets are  _moving_.

Before he has the chance to register that fact, the same noise from earlier sounds again, this time coming from the blankets, and Castiel jumps so high he drops his angel blade and he swears he feels his heart stop. He lands on his butt on the floor, chest rising and falling so fast it makes him dizzy.

"Sh-Show yourself!" Castiel demands, attempting to sound fierce as he scrambles around for his angel blade, clambering up on to his knees before he hears a disgruntled groan come from the pile of blankets.

"Cas, what the hell are you doing?" comes a gravelly voice and Cas recognises it immediately - the pile of blankets is Dean. His thoughts are confirmed when the blankets shift so that Cas can see a tiny little head belonging to Dean popping out of them.

" _Dean_?!" Castiel squeaks, standing up with his angel blade in hand and he attempts to straighten out his pyjamas. "Why are you on the floor? That seems rather uncomfortable."

Dean seems to just huddle up into the blankets more, if that's possible. "I'm sick, you idiot. God, I'm not huddled up like this for the fun of it."

"Oh," Castiel says, sticking out his bottom lip as he tries to figure out what he can do to help. One thing he never had to worry about when he was an angel was getting sick and, if Sam or Dean did, he could just heal them right up. Now, he has no idea what to do. "Do you need anything?"

Dean appears to ponder for a while, making Castiel wonder if he'll ever reply, before finally saying, "Just a coffee." Castel nods - coffee he can do. One of the first things Dean taught him when he became human was how to make a damn good cup of coffee, and he can't complain. Coffee is his best friend right now - being new to the whole human thing also means being new to the concept of sleep, and Cas has to admit he isn't very good at that yet, so coffee helps him feel awake and actually get things done. Just as Cas is leaving the room, he hears Dean yell after him, "And make it  _hot_!", followed by a fit of coughs that Cas decides against commenting on.

As Castiel makes his way towards the kitchen, he picks up one of the laptops and opens it up before googling  _how to take care of a sick friend_. He lets the search results load up and turns on the coffee brewer, before turning his attention back to the laptop. He begins to read a passage, and before he gets far, the words  _do not drink caffeine or alcohol_  appear and Cas just blinks. Those are basically the only two things that Dean does drink, and Castiel isn't sure how to handle this situation. If he refuses to give Dean caffeine, especially in the morning, he'll be stuck with bad-mood-Dean all day. But, he figures that Google knows best - courtesy of Dean always reminding him  _when in doubt, google it out_  - and decides he'll trust medical professionals over his (slightly annoying) best friend.

As Castiel continues to read the passage, he realises that he needs to figure out if Dean has the flu or just a common cold - not that he's entirely sure of the difference, he just knows that Dean will be feeling a lot worse if it's the flu. He searches around for a thermometer in all of the drawers and cupboards until he finds a First Aid Kit with a thermometer inside. He pours a glass of water for Dean, because Dean still needs to stay hydrated, and mentally prepares himself for Dean to flip because he isn't allowed any caffeine.

"Dean," Castiel announces as he walks back into the bedroom, finding that Dean hasn't moved from the floor, but does turn when he hears Castiel.

Castiel sees Dean visibly frown immediately when he notices that Cas has a cold glass of water and not a hot cup of coffee. "Cas?  _Coffee_?"

"You are not allowed coffee. Google said that, when you are sick, caffeine and alcohol are not to be consumed, and you told me to listen to Google when I am in doubt. I have brought you a glass of water instead as you must still keep hydrated." Dean narrows his eyes at Castiel, going to say something but instead he falls into another coughing fit. Castiel flinches at each cough, the harsh, loud sounds echoing through his entire body, and he so desperately wishes he could just press two fingers to Dean's forehead and alleviate him of all of the pain. He frowns to himself when he reminds himself that he can't do that, and instead will have to nurse Dean back to health by himself.  _Sam would be much better at this_ , he tells himself.

"Where is Sam?" Castiel asks, having realised that the taller of the two brothers is nowhere to be found in the bunker.

"Went out on a hunt," Dean grumbles and, although Castiel sometimes struggles to identify emotions, he's sure Dean sounds upset. "Simple witch hunt. Said he could manage it on his own." He also realises how much deeper Dean's voice is than usual - and how much he likes it - and part of him wants Dean to get sick more often. But, then he also realises how Dean is beginning to sniff every five seconds, and the coughing fits are becoming more regular along with repeats of  _that_  sound.

As Dean emits that loud sound again, making Castiel jump once more (this time, however, he does not land on the floor, and instead grounds himself much quicker), Castiel asks, "Dean, what is that  _dreadful_  sound you keep making?"

Dean turns to him again - taking the glass of water that Castiel is handing him with a slight glare - and is confused for a moment, unsure of what Cas is talking about. Quickly, though, his mouth morphs into a fond smile (one that he definitely doesn't show often) and he lets out a small, hoarse laugh. "Cas, I'm sneezing. It's what people do when they're ill."

Castiel still looks confused, but he nods and simply requests, "Well, could you please refrain from...  _sneezing_  when I am in the room? It is scary, and I am trying to nurse you back to health, which I will be unable to do if you keep scaring me like that."

Dean shakes his head with his fond smile growing, and Castiel decides that it's time to return to the task at hand. "Dean, I require your temperature so I can determine whether or not you have a fever and then, from that information, I can decide how best to treat your illness."

Dean raises an eyebrow as Castiel hesitantly makes his way over to the blanket pile. Castiel stares at the thermometer for a moment longer before copying the images that Google showed him and putting one end in Dean's mouth. Dean starts smiling again, confusing Castiel greatly as he fails to see what's so humorous about this situation. His confusion soon turns into agitation, however, as the reading on the thermometer doesn't seem to be changing and is instead stuck at 73 **°**  Fahrenheit. "I do not understand," Castiel mumbles with a small frown, taking the thermometer back into his hand and staring at it with a perplexed look. "It says that you are at seventy-three degrees but, if that was true, then you would be dead."

Dean just laughs at Castiel, not caring about the fact that he's sick and this is definitely not helping his sore throat. He finds it so entertaining - and cute - when Castiel becomes this confused over things that are so simple to him.

Castiel frowns at Dean, tilting his head in that adorable way that makes Dean's heart flutter, eyes wide and blinking. "Dean, stop laughing at me! I don't understand, what do I do?"

Dean sighs - if he wanted to, he could keep this going forever and, honestly, he's almost considering it - but the laughter is making him lightheaded and Cas really is beginning to look upset. So he takes the thermometer from Cas's hand and puts it back into his mouth, this time with the other end inside. Castiel stares in wonder as the thermometer seems to be doing the job it's supposed to, then smiles sheepishly at the simple mistake.

"Sorry, Dean," he quickly apologises, taking the thermometer out of Dean's mouth after another minute. "I appear to have refrained from reading the instructions properly. I will not make that mistake again."

"'S'okay, Cas," Dean promises, seeing Cas's eyes light up at the reassurance. "It's an easy enough mistake to make," he continues, even though it isn't. He decides he'll take it easy on Cas - this is his first time ever experiencing this, and Dean knows that it must feel strange that he can't just heal Dean on the spot (not that Dean cares. This means that he can spend more time with Cas, and he has an excuse without it seeming abnormal).

"i believe you have a fever," Cas finally announces after figuring out how to read the thermometer. "I read that a fever is anything above one-hundred degrees, and you appear to have a temperature of one-hundred-and-two degrees." Dean figures that Cas is speaking more to himself than to Dean, so he lets him continue without interrupting to see what conclusion he comes to. Castiel stands in silence for a moment, thinking to himself until, finally, he says, "I think this means you have the flu, Dean." Dean refrains from replying with a sarcastic comment - although that fact is obvious to him, he remembers that this is all still new to Cas - and leaves Cas to figure out what he can do to help. Not that he can do much; Dean doesn't get sick often but, when he does, he usually just spends a few days watching TV shows, drinking coffee, and eating rubbish until he feels better again. Basically, he does everything he usually does except hunt.

"Dean, you need a lot of rest," Castiel says finally, looking at Dean like a concerned mother. Dean sighs, shaking his head and refusing to move. He's comfortable where he is - on the floor, wrapped in about a hundred blankets, watching his favourite show. Besides, when he's sick, he always seems to find it harder to sleep - he isn't entirely sure why, but he doesn't question it. It may slow down the healing process, but it's an excuse to stay home and relax instead of going on hunts for a few days.

"Cas, honestly, I'm fine," Dean tries to assure but, as usual, Cas is taking what Dean told him way too literally and trusts Google more than Dean.

"No, Dean. Google says you need a lot of rest, and you need to eat hot food, preferably soup." Dean wants to argue, but part of him is beginning to like this caring side of Cas (though that's probably just because he's actually spending time with Cas, and Cas caring for Dean is actually adorable - not that Dean will ever verbally admit that). " I can make you soup. Whilst I am doing that, you must get back into bed and rest, or you will not get better."

Castiel seems like he won't back down if this turns into an argument, so Dean can only silently agree as Castiel leaves to return to the kitchen. Castiel remembers seeing soup when he was searching for the thermometer, and checks back in that cupboard to see a can of Chicken Noodle Soup. He isn't entirely sure how many flavours of soup there are, or if this one is even very good (in his limited time of being a human being, he hasn't tried very many foods, despite how hard Dean has been trying to make him eat everything he can think of), but he hopes that it will be good enough for Dean as it is all he can find. Castiel reads the two different sets of instructions on the can, and decides he'll make it in the microwave as the instructions for that are the simplest and there seems no way that he can go wrong.

So, he pours the soup into a bowl and then places said bowl into the microwave and sets the timer for two minutes, deciding to check to see if there's anything else he can do to help Dean. He reads that Dean could do with a hot, steamy shower or bath, but he figures that that can wait until Dean has rested up and actually slept. By this point, the microwave is beeping and Castiel assumes that that means that the soup is ready, so he picks the bowl up and grabs a spoon, hoping he's done this right and he won't let Dean down again.

He returns to Dean clambering into a now covered bed, smiling fondly as Dean seems to immediately snuggle up into the warmth. He puts the bowl of soup on the bedside table, unsure of what to do now. All Dean can do is rest, and Castiel appears to have done his job. "Dean, you must eat this soup whilst it is hot. It will help."

Dean smiles gratefully at Castiel and pats the bed, signalling for Castiel to sit down next to him. Castiel seems confused so, after sighing inwardly, Dean says, "Sit. Watch with me." Dean expects Cas to argue, to say that TV shows are stupid and make no sense (and, although Dean sometimes finds it annoying that Cas would go into full-on rants about  _fictional_  TV shows, he also finds it adorable how flustered it makes Cas when something doesn't make sense to him), but instead Castiel seems happy enough with the request and slowly sits down next to Dean, flopping down on top of the covers.

"Eat your soup, Dean," Castiel tells him again, and Dean has to refrain himself from commenting on how Cas is beginning to act like an extremely over-protective mother. To keep him happy, Dean takes the bowl of soup over so that it's sat upon the covers on top of him, and he turns his attention back to the show.

For a while, the two sit in silence, which surprises Dean greatly as he expected Cas to complain about almost everything in the show, but Cas stays quiet throughout the whole show, though every so often Dean can feel him staring at him. He manages to convince himself that Cas is just making sure he's eating his soup, but sometimes Cas just stares at him for minutes on end. Dean has to struggle to hide his blushing red cheeks whenever that happens.

Soon enough, Dean finds himself full and exhausted, and he's struggling to keep his eyes open. Despite this, he tries to tell himself that he isn't tired - he knows that, even if he tries, he likely won't be able to fall asleep, so he'll just have to result to watching his show until he literally cannot keep his eyes open any longer (which, with Dean's luck, won't happen for hours). However, his plans are thwarted when he unintentionally yawns, which doesn't go unnoticed by Castiel.

Cas's response is immediate and inevitable. "Dean, you are tired. You must sleep." Dean shakes his head at once, refusing and hoping that Cas will just drop it because he's not really up for having this conversation. As expected, however, Cas refuses to back down and insists, "Dean, rest is essential for recovery." Dean just shakes his head again, ditching the now empty bowl on the side desk and he attempts to ignore whatever Cas says to him. Again, his attempts are futile as his lack of vocal response seems to light a spark in Cas. "Dean, why are you avoiding this conversation? I do not see the problem." Honestly, part of Dean just wants to punch Castiel right now, to get him to shut up and just drop it because he is  _not_  in the mood for a heart-to-heart right now. How is he supposed to explain to Cas that he  _can't_  sleep? It just makes him seem like a child, and he doesn't want to seem even more helpless to Cas than he already is by being ill.

" _Dean_ ," Cas demands again, voice thicker and deeper and Dean is beginning to struggle to ignore him. He briefly glances at him, seeing Cas's eyes narrowed in confusion and concern and he has a feeling he isn't getting out of this one without some sort of explanation. Still, a tiny slither of hope that Cas will stop asking remains, as does his silence and he turns his attention to the covers laying on his legs. "Dean, I don't understand why you won't just tell me. Are you having trouble sleeping? I understand if you are, Dean - I am, too."

Dean glances briefly again, raising an eyebrow at Cas's confession, and it makes part of him want to confess himself, but he manages to ignore it. "Cas, please don't make me talk about it." He hopes that will be enough for Cas, and it seems to be when Cas nods slowly in agreement. Dean expects to just sit in silence and continue watching the show, but Cas, as per usual, seems to have other ideas.

"This whole being-human thing sucks, Dean. I don't know how you deal with it," he says, and Dean just rolls his eyes. To be honest, Dean expected to have more conversations with Cas about this, but this conversation is the first one Cas has initiated himself.

"Cas, all we do is eat, sleep, and hunt - how can that be difficult?" He attempts to sound mocking, but he can't help the small smile at Cas's look of frustration.

"But, Dean, I'm not good at any of those things. If it wasn't for you, I would have no idea what foods tasted good - although, sometimes your food tastes are questionable." Dean frowns immediately, feigning offence, which receives a simple yet apologetic smile from Cas. "Besides, we both know that, now that I am human, I am useless on a hunt. That's why you and Sam don't take me on hunts anymore, Dean, and I do not blame you. I am unable to heal myself or others, and I am nowhere near as fast as I used to be. I am just a much more useless version of my angel-self."

Dean immediately goes into protective mode. He is not okay with Cas belittling himself, and he feels each and every one of his words tug at his heartstrings. Despite how lowly Castiel thinks of himself, Dean will never stop being proud of the man he calls his best friend, whom he cares about in a way he's never cared about anyone before, and, until Castiel starts to believe him, he won't stop reminding him of that. "Hey, Cas, angel mojo or not, I love you." Dean pauses for a second, wondering if that's a little bit too full on. Will Cas take that in the friendly, platonic way, or in the  _actual_  love way? Dean isn't entirely sure which he wants it to be. "Sam does too, Cas, and we always will. You don't need to be an angel for that, buddy, okay? You're perfect as is."

Dean sees that damn smile creep onto Cas's face, one that he sees rarely but he knows means that he's managed to get through to him. He returns the smile, his one slightly sadder as he continues to think about Cas's words. Does he really think of himself as any less of a being because he's not an angel anymore? That, just because he doesn't have all of his 'special powers', he's of no use to them anymore? "Besides," Dean continues, just for added measure, "I much prefer spending time with you whilst I'm sick over you just healing me. It's fun, relaxing. I'm more relaxed than I have  been in a while, and that's down to you, Cas." Dean is never normally this open, especially not with Cas, but for some reason, what Cas said about himself hit him hard, and he felt a sudden, burning urge to convince him otherwise.

Cas's smile remains for a little while, and they just stare at each other, no words spoken, until Cas seems to realise something. His smile disappears, and he returns to being a concerned mother. "Dean, we have talked for too long - you must sleep now."

Dean's smile drops, too, remembering what their previous topic of conversation was. "Cas, I already said no. Why can't you just leave it?" He knows that getting defensive will just make Cas more concerned, but he's out of options, and he really doesn't want to admit any of his weaknesses to Cas. They've already had a heart-to-heart today, isn't that enough?

"Because, Dean, rest is necessary when you have the flu, and I will not stop pestering you until you sleep. Now, please, tell me what the problem is, or else I will remain unable to help." Dean can feel his wall of resistance crumbling, and he's so sure that if he doesn't change the subject soon, he's going to end up spilling  _everything_.

"You want me to talk about not wanting to sleep with the person who actually  _can't_  sleep? I mean, c'mon, Cas, but that just seems a bit stupid, doesn't it?" Dean doesn't mean it as a crude comment, but he can't ignore the way Cas's face falls into a frown, his cheeks flushing red as he bows his head in embarrassment. Dean's breath catches in his throat as he curses himself inside, and he tries to convince himself that he doesn't see tears begin to well in Castiel's eyes. "Cas, I didn't-"

"I do try, Dean," Castiel says, his head still lowered and Dean nods as if to say  _I know_ , even though Cas can't see it. "I'm sorry that I struggle, I know that it is stupid, but I really am trying to figure it out. I just find it hard, but I'm not sure why, and... please don't be mad at me for it."

Dean, once again, feels his heart shatter but this time, he's the one who caused it. He can sense that Cas is beginning to panic, and Dean's kind of shocked to think that Cas actually thinks that Dean could hate him for not being able to sleep. If it wasn't for the tears brimming in Cas's eyes, Dean's heart probably would've swelled with love. "Cas, don't be stupid, I just..." Dean trails off, unsure of where he's going with that. He could tell Cas that he didn't mean it, but he feels like that would have little effect.

Dean thinks for a moment, before coming up with an idea that he really hopes won't go wrong. Normally, he wouldn't even dream of doing this, but they've already had a heart-to-heart today, and Cas is probably going to cry if he doesn't do something soon. So, before he can back out, Dean reaches over for the remote and turns off the TV before turning to face Cas. "Right, c'mere," he says, ushering Cas over to him. He wraps his arm around Cas's waist, pulling him down next to him, and Dean really hopes that Cas won't freak out. Thankfully, Cas seems to just be going with whatever Dean is doing, as he usually does, and Dean is able to pull Cas down so that they're both lying down, which finally makes Castiel say something: "Dean, what are you doing?"

Cas sounds confused, but Dean is sure he doesn't sound uncomfortable, so he says, "Don't worry, Cas, just trust me." Cas nods, so Dean pulls him closer so that Cas's back is pressed against his chest. He intertwines their legs, and wraps his arm around Cas's waist again, moving his hand so that it's covering one of Cas's.

"Dean-" Cas is about to mention that this is most definitely violating all of their personal space rules that  _Dean_  made, but Dean won't let him speak.

"Ssh," Dean hushes him, rubbing a thumb over the back of Cas's hand. "Just close your eyes, try to sleep."

Dean hopes that this will work because, otherwise, it's just going to end up really awkward. But neither of them can deny that this, lying here together, feels right. It feels like they're meant to be here, to be together like this and, in this moment, neither of them want to leave. Just as Dean told him to, Cas closes his eyes, trusting that Dean is doing something that's going to help, and Dean does the same. Both of them are surprised to find that, the moment their eyes close, exhaustion fills them and they both fall into a peaceful slumber within minutes.

***

Castiel awakens first, surprised to find that he actually wakes from a nightmare-free sleep. He thinks that when he manages to sleep usually - normally for barely more than a few hours and very,  _very_  rarely - his dreams are plagued with what he figured out are probably nightmares. He tends to wake up in the early hours of the morning, screaming silently and damp with sweat, too terrified to close his eyes again so he just sits and reads. He's sure that, by this point, he's read more books than Sam has read in his entire life - and that's saying something.

He lays still, Dean's arm a constant weight around his body, and he wonders how long they slept for. He feels weird - sort of revitalised, but partly still tired. Castiel sighs to himself and moves his hand so that it's ghosting over Dean's, wondering if he should hold it. It felt so right when Dean held his hand as they fell asleep, but he's worried that he's reading the situation wrong and that was a one-time thing, not to happen again. Or that Dean's the only one that's allowed to initiate it because of the whole 'personal space' rule. Or maybe Dean didn't mean to do it at all, and it was just because he's ill and tired and he's got a fever. Castiel has read that fevers make people do weird, unpredictable things.

Castiel decides against holding his hand and instead begins to play with Dean's fingers until either he falls back asleep or Dean wakes up. He isn't sure which he'd prefer.

Sure enough, he feels some shuffling from behind him, and then hears a groan from a very disgruntled Dean. "Mmmph... Wha's goin' on?"

Castiel lets Dean's fingers go before the Winchester is coherent enough to notice and smiles softly, turning his head to look at him. Dean sounds a lot more sick than before and, although part of Cas is worried, the other part finds it amusing. "We both appear to have slept for a while," Castiel tries to explain because, really, that's all he knows.

He turns so that he's lying on his back, making it easier to see Dean, and he notices that Dean is smiling just a little. Castiel raises a questioning eyebrow, surprised to see that Dean is still in that no-personal-space mood when he rests his head on Cas's chest. Castiel still doesn't question it, instead relishes in all of this closeness because he isn't sure how long it's going to last. "I haven't slept like that in a damn long time, Cas," Dean whispers, voice muffled slightly by Cas's shirt, and Cas nods in agreement, though he's not sure if Dean acknowledges that.

"Thank you, Dean," Cas tells him, tentatively resting a hand on Dean's back and half expecting rejection. But Dean seems to welcome the touch so Cas moves his hand up to Dean's head, combing his fingers through Dean's soft but sweaty hair. Dean hums, which Cas figures means  _you're welcome_ , and so they lay like that for a while, silent and still except for the movement of Cas's fingers through Dean's hair.

Neither of them is sure how long they've stayed like that for, though they assume it's been a while because, as they're almost falling back asleep, Dean's door suddenly flies open and a tired and grumpy Sam makes his way in. Dean jumps up immediately, moving as far away from Cas as possible and, in turn, almost falling out of the bed. Cas frowns, looking between Sam and Dean, thoroughly confused.

"Sam, what the  _hell_?!" Dean yells, voice so loud it makes Cas flinch, and he gets up off the bed, stepping away from both Sam and Castiel. Sam raises an eyebrow at his brother, feeling that he is completely overreacting. "Haven't you ever heard of  _knocking_?!"

Castiel sits up straight, aware that Dean is clearly freaked out for some reason. But he isn't entirely sure how to help, so all he can do is wait until he manages to figure it out.

"Get out! Both of you, get  _out_!"

Castiel hesitates, and he's glad he does otherwise he would have missed the added effect the shouting has on Dean. The older Winchester tumbles slightly, hands reaching out to lean on the desk only to completely miss. Castiel manages to somewhat catch him before he hits the floor and helps him onto the bed, but Dean seems determined to get him to go away. "Cas, are you deaf? I said leave!"

Dean winces at the frown that the yelling causes Cas to have, but he cannot have Sam thinking that there's something going on between him and Cas. Sam wouldn't understand. Hell,  _Dean_  doesn't even understand. He just knows it's not something he's ever been...  _allowed_  to do. John was never exactly okay with it.

Cas doesn't argue - he normally doesn't argue when he fears that Dean is angry with him - and instead nods solemnly, backing slowly out of the room. Dean sighs to himself, the dizziness in his head easing and he looks up towards the door to see Sam staring at him, shaking his head and muttering, "Idiot."

And then Sam is gone, and Dean is left lying on top of a bed that feels a lot more empty than it did just an hour ago, and he can't help the shuddering breath that escapes him. Part of him wants to scream as loud as he possibly can, the other part of him is surprised he actually managed to resist the heartbroken look in Cas's eyes when Dean told him to leave.

He groans, regretting that immediately as it soon turns into a cough, which leads to his eyes watering and then suddenly he's crying, unable to stop the endless flow of tears so he just curls up into a small ball to try and hide himself and he just lets the tears fall.

***

So, Sam is stuck in a confusing position. He's known there's been something between Cas and Dean for a while, though he also knows that they  _don't_  know that there's something between them. Cas, because he's not used to emotions and is still trying to get a hang of them. Dean, because he's always in denial of anything he's ever feeling.

Sam's unsure of who to try talking to. Cas is going to be all types of confused, but Dean probably isn't going to listen to reason until he's given time to calm down. Cas it is then, he decides. He ventures towards Castiel's room, knocking when he reaches the door. Cas immediately tells him to  _come in_ , and, when Sam enters, seems unsurprised that it's Sam and not Dean. He also looks disappointed, Sam notes.

"Hey," Sam says, making his way closer. Cas is leaning against the headboard, legs crossed and apparently trying to read a book. But he doesn't seem to be succeeding in said reading because he's still on the first page. Sam takes a seat on the edge of the bed, not too close because he's unsure what turn this conversation is going to take. "You know, Dean didn't really mean it," he tries to explain, but Cas just raises an eyebrow half-heartedly.

"He seemed pretty sure when he yelled at me to get out, Sam," Cas deadpans. 

Sam sighs in irritation, both at Dean's idiocy and Cas's inability to understand. "Cas, you've got to really think about this, okay?"

"There's nothing to think about, Sam," Cas insists, turning away from Sam. Sam can see the sad look on his face, the wrinkles of a frown showing. Cas stands suddenly, still facing away from Sam but he seems determined now. "I think... I think I should keep my distance for a while."

Sam chokes on air, quickly composing himself. "Cas, what are you-"

"I've clearly done something to upset your brother, so I probably should stay away until Dean wishes I return. This is for the best, Sam," Cas tells him, heading for his wardrobe. He pulls out a rucksack and starts packing clothes, shoving them inside.

Sam finds himself frozen for a moment, unsure of what to say because Cas is actually leaving and he doesn't know what to do. Finally, Sam gets a hold of himself, and he makes his way over to Cas, standing right beside him. "Hey, Cas,  _stop_."

He tries putting a hand on Castiel's arm and making a grab for the rucksack, but Cas pulls away from him and Sam doesn't think there's anything he can do to stop him. His mind is set.

"Would you mind leaving, so I can get changed?" Cas requests, still avoiding looking at Sam.

Sam stands, open-mouthed, for a second, completely frozen. Cas just isn't going to listen to him, and he knows it. He decides right then that he has to have given Dean enough time to get his head out of his sorry ass because he's the only one who can stop Cas from going.

So Sam makes his way back to Dean's room, yet again not knocking and he finds Dean lying face-down on the bed, breathing heavily. "Dean, get up," Sam instructs,

As he expects, Dean bites back with a harsh, "Go away, Sam."

But Sam isn't going to turn away. This entire situation is Dean's fault, and it's his job to fix it, considering he's the only one who can. "Cas is leaving, Dean, and you have to stop him."

Dean huffs out a small, disbelieving laugh, to which Sam just clenches his jaw because  _of course_  Dean wouldn't take this seriously. " _Dean_!" Sam yells, letting his frustration take over. Even Dean jumps, and rolls over so he can see Sam. His doubtful smile falls when he sees the stern look on Sam's face. "This is  _serious_ , Dean. You've messed up bad, now go and fix it before he's gone."

Dean sits up slowly, still unsure. "You're not tryna mess with me?" Sam just glares, absolutely  _done_  with Dean, and he sees the dread fill Dean's face. "He's actually going?"

"Yes," Sam groans, and he's actually ready to just bang Dean's head against the wall if it'll knock some sense into him.

Dean swallows thickly, heart hammering in his chest. He knows Sam isn't lying, but part of him is still desperate for it. But he doesn't know what to do. His heart wants Cas but, when he sees Sam, his head says  _no_. Seeing Sam reminds him of John's reaction to finding out Dean was into guys, and he cannot go through that again with Sam. He just  _can't_.

But he also knows he can't let Cas leave. He has to explain why, can't let Cas go blaming this on himself or thinking  _he's_  done something wrong because he hasn't.  _Dean's_  the one who's messed up here, not Cas.

So he stumbles out of bed, trying his hardest to ignore the dizzy spells that try to conquer him. He stumbles and Sam moves to catch him but Dean shoves him off, mumbling something about having it  _all under control, Sammy, I'm fine_.

His head is pounding, throat burning and the lights in the bunker are  _definitely_  way too bright, but he doesn't care. So long as he leans against the wall as he goes, he'll be fine. He thinks. He can sense Sam following close behind him, probably preparing himself to catch Dean if he falls, but he's determined to make it. It's the least he can do.

Eventually, he makes it to Cas's room. He exhales deeply, leaning against the doorframe and trying to remember how to see and stop his head spinning. When his vision finally clears, though, he's met with an empty room and a simple note in the middle of Cas's bed reading:  _sorry_.

***

" _Find him_ ," Dean demands, dropping the laptop in front of Sam. He then slumps down in a seat across the table, leaning his head on his hands.

"Why can't you?" Sam asks, but he's already typing away, doing whatever magical technological stuff Sam does to get the information he needs.

Dean groans, grabbing the bottle of water in front of him. "Because, Sam, if I stare at a screen for more than five seconds I'll be stuck throwing up for the next hour and I'd rather not."

Sam stares at Dean worriedly, watching him gulp down half a bottle of water. "Are you thinking of going after him?" he asks as Dean continues to down the water.

Once he's finished, Dean exhales deeply, putting the now-empty bottle on the table. He glances at Sam, who's still typing but also still watching Dean with concern. "Soon as you find him," he says.

"You sure that's such a good idea?" he asks, unsure. Dean doesn't really look well, can barely stand up on his own as it is. How is he supposed to be able to drive to wherever Cas is and convince him to come home? "You're not exactly...  _fighting fit_."

Dean sends Sam a smile as if to say he's already figured it out. "Which is why I'm gonna spend the time it takes you to find him fixing myself up as good as I can." He emphasises that by pulling a pack of painkillers from god knows where and placing two of them in his mouth, downing them with a second bottle of water. He glances at the laptop, then back at Sam. "How's it going, anyway?"

Sam sighs, shrugging his shoulders. He scratches at his jaw, saying, "Nothing, yet. I'm tracking the credit card I think he took, but he hasn't used it yet. And I'm trying to find any camera footage of his truck, but there's nothing on that, either. We're just going to have to wait." Sam leans back in his chair, clenching his jaw. Even though he knows this isn't really his fault, he still feels weighted with guilt at letting Cas leave. Surely there's more he could have done to make him stay, or at least  _wait_  long enough for Dean to be able to talk to him. But now Cas is gone and they don't know where he is, and Cas thinks he's the one in the wrong, the one who's messed everything up when it's  _Dean_  who's at fault here.

"You'd better not go making this worse, Dean," Sam warns, voice a low mumble.

Dean grins, but Sam can see the insecurity in his eyes. "You underestimate me, Sammy."

But Sam just can't find humour in this situation, can't stand making jokes. "Dean, I'm serious." Dean drops his gaze, sighing. "You've gotta remember that you're trying to get Cas  _back_ , not scare him further off." Dean just glares at him, seeming offended that Sam could think such a thing, but Sam also knows that Dean's probably thinking this, too. "And you've gotta remember that he doesn't understand this. If... If he does feel anything romantic for you, which I'm sure he does, he probably won't  _know_  it."

Dean keeps his eyes trained on the table, brows furrowed. He never thought of that, about how Cas feels. Sure, sometimes he wonders how Cas feels, if he feels for Dean what Dean feels for him. But Dean never realised that Cas has never been in love before, so even if he's feeling all of these things, he doesn't know what they are, what they  _mean_. And now Dean has flipped out on him, and it's probably confusing him even more and it's all Dean's fault.

He's sure he zoned out for a few minutes because, suddenly, Sam is talking and it makes Dean jump so high he almost spills the rest of his second bottle of water. "He's just booked into a motel," Sam says and Dean is immediately leaning closer.

"Where?" he demands. Sam turns the laptop to show Dean the address and then Dean is standing and saying, "I'm getting changed and then I'm gone."

He ignores Sam's calls after him, probably to lecture him more but this doesn't involve Sam. This is about Castiel and Dean and it's not Sam's place to tell Dean what he should and shouldn't do. He changes into comfortable clothing and then he's making his way to the garage to get in the Impala. He tries to ignore the empty space next to it where Cas's truck should be parked, promising himself that it'll be back where it belongs soon enough.

The drive feels endless but, at the same time, it's over so suddenly that Dean can't remember it. But that might just be because he can feel his heartbeat inside his head and it's making it hard to really focus. He ventures towards the front desk, trying to look vaguely normal despite how much he wants to just keel over and curl up right where he is. When he makes it, there's a lady and she's smiling and asking, "How can I help you?"

Dean gets his bearings, blinking once, twice and then asks, "Was there a guy here?" He holds his hand up just below the top of his head. "About yay-high, wearing a trench coat?"

She nods, and starts checking her computer. "Yes, there was. He checked in to room 4C."

Dean sends her as friendly a smile as he can muster as a silent thank you and makes his way to the elevator. He presses the button for the fourth floor and waits. His heart is pounding, but he can't tell if it's because of his illness or because of his nerves. He just hopes this goes okay, because there are a million ways it could go and he just wants Cas to come back.

A  _ding_  rips him from his thoughts as the elevator stops and the doors open and Dean makes his way out into the lobby, glancing around for Cas's door. Once he spots it, it takes everything in Dean to force himself to walk towards it. Not because he doesn't want to see Cas, but also because he doesn't want to see Cas. Doesn't want to see how upset he's going to be when his eyes fall on Dean, doesn't want to risk Cas not understanding everything that's going on.

But his legs move anyway, as if drawn to Cas, and the next thing he knows he's knocking loudly on the door. A few seconds later, said door swings open and Cas is there, eyes widening and face paling when he sees it's Dean.

" _Dean_ -" Cas breathes but Dean is pushing past him, into the room. His sickness is not even on his mind right now, completely oblivious to the pounding in his head and how dry his throat is despite the two bottles of water he drank not even an hour ago.

Dean turns to face Cas as the door closes and Cas is frozen, completely avoiding Dean's gaze. Dean can see him shaking even with the distance between them and wants to say something, but isn't sure what. Eventually, he settles on, "Why'd you leave?" Even though he knows the answer, he wants to hear it from Cas's point of view.

Castiel continues to avoid Dean's gaze, but he answers. "You didn't want me there. I figured it best I leave for a while to give you time to be able to be around me again."

" _Cas_ ," Dean whispers, frowning, guilt washing over him like a wave. "I didn't- that's not what I meant."

Cas lifts his gaze slowly, eyebrows furrowing and eyes narrowing. He looks completely confused, like he has no idea what's going on. "I don't understand," he admits. Dean remembers that that's what's important here, that Cas doesn't understand anything. "You yelled at me to leave, more than once, yet you now claim you meant otherwise. Dean, my head is already a mess what with everything new that I am experiencing. You're not making it any easier to wrap my head around."

Dean takes a step closer, keeping distance between them but trying to make the conversation slightly more closed, more about them. "Do you..." He trails off, wondering if now is the best time to ask this. He quickly changes his mind, decides he'll explain himself first, and then talk about Cas's feelings - or not feelings - for Dean. He turns then, and heads for the bed, taking a seat and patting the space next to him. "Come sit with me, Cas."

Cas's movements are tentative, but he does as he's told, though is careful to keep a gap between him and Dean. He doesn't want Dean flipping out again because Cas is pushing their personal space boundaries. He doesn't want to risk doing anything wrong; he hates Dean being angry at him.

Dean takes a deep breath, angling his body towards Cas. "The way I acted earlier, Cas, the way I spoke to you, there's no excuse for it, but I want to try to explain why I acted the way I did." He glances at Cas, whose face is almost dark, serious, and Dean knows it's okay to continue because Cas understands that this is important, especially to Dean. "Growing up, Sam and I... our dad wasn't exactly the most understanding guy. I mean, that's pretty obvious considering he forced his two sons into a life of hunting." He clenches his jaw, composing himself. This isn't something he ever planned on talking about with anyone,  _ever_. "I was never solely into guys, it was always a mix. Sometimes I'd fall for boys, sometimes I'd fall for girls, but we never stayed anywhere long enough for me to think any differently of it." Dean's hands curl into fists at his sides, but he forces himself to continue. "I was in sixth grade when I kissed my first boy. I wouldn't say it felt the same as kissing a girl, but it kinda did, if you know what I mean? I knew I liked them, and that was okay with me because why shouldn't it be? There's absolutely nothing wrong with it." A lump forms in his throat and he tries to swallow but he ends up making a small choked sound and, okay, Dean, now is really  _not_  the time for crying.

Cas moves slightly closer, clearly sensing the emotion in Dean's explanation. "Dean, if this is too hard-"

" _No_ ," Dean insists, forcing a small smile. "You deserve an explanation, Cas." Cas seems hesitant but does nod in agreement, eventually. "It wasn't until I was in seventh grade that dad found out, though. He came to pick me and Sam up from school because he'd finished a hunt early, and he caught me in the playground, kissing this boy that I'd spent days trying to get the attention of. And,  _god_ , Cas, the way he reacted..."

Cas's face hardens, eyes narrowing slightly. "Did he hurt you?" Cas demands, and he sounds as if he's angry but trying to reign it in.

Dean forces a huff of a laugh, shaking his head. "Man, I wish he'd just hit me or something." Cas just looks even more confused, but Dean doesn't know how to explain that to him. "No, he didn't hurt me. But... I don't know, Cas, something between us changed. He was always a lot more rough, more demanding, more  _threatening_. And he'd always keep Sam away from me if he wasn't on a hunt. And I  _hated_  it. I mean, I worshipped him, Cas, he was my dad. And I did everything I could to fix it. I stayed away from boys completely, made sure Sam never found out. Hooked up with as many girls as I could to emphasise that I did like them, too, but it never worked."

Cas moves closer again and Dean is trying so hard not to break down. "Okay," Cas whispers, wanting to reach for Dean's hands but he can't risk upsetting Dean again. "I understand that, Dean, I  _do_. But your father is no longer here, so I don't understand why he still has this hold over you."

Dean drops his gaze to his lap, avoiding looking at Cas. He's close enough to crying as it is, and one glimpse at Cas's concerned look will break him. "It's not that. Well, I mean obviously there's always that voice in my head, reminding me what he'd think if I kissed a guy. But it's mostly Sam. I can't... Cas, I  _can't_  risk Sam reacting in the same way. I can't go through that again."

Castiel studies Dean's face, identifies the insecurity and fear hidden in his features. "Dean," he mumbles, and decides to get over himself and clasps Dean's hands in his. Dean doesn't pull away, so Cas counts that as a win. "Sam would never hate you just because of your sexuality, just as I would not. That isn't something that it is necessary for you to fear."

"I know that," Dean admits with a weak laugh. "Deep down, I do know that. And it's like, I was okay with you, earlier, wasn't really thinking about it. But the second I saw Sam, it all came flooding back and I couldn't have him thinking there was something going on between us, and I wanted you gone because I'm an idiot and I completely overreacted."

Cas takes his hands away from Dean, ducking his head. "Is there?" he whispers, not looking at Dean. "Is there something going on between us?"

Dean frowns, because he doesn't have an answer to that. But he knows that he wants something between them, and he now knows that Sam is perfectly fine with it, so, really, it's down to Cas. "I don't know," he says, seeing Cas's eyes slip shut. "That depends."

"On what?"

Dean raises his eyebrows at Cas as Cas lifts his head again. "On how you feel about me." Cas narrows his eyes, brows furrowed as he's clearly trying to think of an answer but Dean knows he won't be able to think of one. "Describe it," he says, and Cas swallows. "How you feel about me - describe it."

Castiel tightens his lips but he nods, trying to determine how he's going to put this into words. "I... When I see you, my mind races. I feel unable to think straight but, at the same time, I feel so completely calm. You make me so unbelievably happy. When you smile, when you laugh, I can only focus on you. You're like a sudden light in the room and it fills me with hope, with my own sense of happiness even though all you've done is be happy yourself. A lot of the time, I find myself completely focused on you, the world around me non-existent because you're all that matters." Castiel's cheeks flush red when he realises Dean is staring at him, wide-eyed, though he isn't sure what exactly he's embarrassed about. "To put it into basic terms, Dean, I simply cannot imagine a future without you."

Dean swallows, trying to remember to breathe because oh  _wow_. He was completely  _not_  expecting that. Although part of him was sure that Cas did love him, another part of him kept reminding himself to be realistic. He and Castiel have been best friends for so long, how would it have been possible to know if Cas did love him or if he was in love with Dean, but just platonically?

Dean's lost for words, though, doesn't know how to react. It's been...  _so long_  since he's heard someone talk about him like that, and he honestly isn't sure what he's supposed to say. And Cas looks terrified because Dean hasn't said anything yet. It makes Dean move closer, sending Cas a small, encouraging smile. "Can I try something?"

Castiel has no idea what Dean wants to try, but he does trust him so he nods though he's trembling with the anticipation. Dean licks his lips, glancing between Cas's own lips and eyes, and he's trying to compose himself because  _oh god_  he's about to kiss Cas and he's nervous, okay? He lifts his hand to Cas's cheek, stroking his thumb across the cheekbone. He dips his head closer, leaning his forehead against Cas's, and Cas's eyes are so blue, so intense and it's like they're staring into Dean's  _soul_. He brushes his lips against Cas's, testing to see if Cas wants to pull away, but Cas's eyes just slip closed, and he seems relaxed. So Dean dips his head down, pressing his lips against Cas's properly, earning a small gasp from Cas. It's gentle, the way their lips move together, because Dean wants this to be perfect, wants to make it perfect for Cas.

Dean pulls away after a few seconds, lowering his eyes to the ground for a moment to prepare himself before lifting his gaze back up to Cas, whose eyes are still closed. "How was that?" Dean whispers, voice shaking with nerves.

Cas swallows, opening his eyes slowly. "I think I love you, Dean," he decides, and he's trembling visibly.

Dean's shocked, even though he was hoping for this. It's still surreal, that Cas actually loves him and it's a struggle to wrap his head around it. "Well, Cas," he begins, "I think I love you, too."

Castiel leans closer and Dean's almost expecting another kiss, but Cas just pulls Dean close, lets Dean's head drop onto his shoulder and holds him. His embrace is warm and Dean actually feels like melting, gripping at Cas's shirt like his life depends on it. "You no longer have to be afraid of who you are Dean," Cas promises. Dean squeezes his eyes shut, still determined not to cry. "To me, you are perfect."

It's cute and amazing and wonderful for a moment, but then Dean's adrenalin seems to fade and he feels all woozy and faint. He pulls away from Cas, eyes squeezed and he can faintly hear Cas asking if he's okay but his stomach is churning and he's trying to figure out if he's going to throw up or faint. Very quickly he decides he's about to throw up and he's stumbling towards the bathroom, barely managing to slump in front of the toilet before he's heaving and spewing.

Castiel is behind him almost immediately, though Dean doesn't notice his presence until he feels Cas's hand on his back, rubbing soothing circles to ease his discomfort. It's a couple of minutes before Dean feels sure enough to reach over for some toilet paper, wipe his mouth, throw it in the toilet, and then flush it. He sits back against the bathtub, exhaling deeply and trying to get his bearings, vaguely aware of Castiel kneeling in front of him.

"Dean?" Cas asks after a moment, eyes narrowed in concern. "You're still ill?"

Dean nods slowly with a small groan. "It'll be a few days before I'm feeling even slightly better, Cas," he mumbles as an explanation and Cas straightens up, standing and holding his hand out for Dean.

"Then I must continue to take care of you," Cas insists as he pulls Dean up so that he's standing, too, arms reaching out to steady Dean as he stumbles. Dean shakes his head in an attempt to refuse, but Cas wants to help so he will. "Tell me what you need me to do, Dean."

Dean hesitates, part of him still wanting to refuse Cas's help. But the other part of him _does_ want Cas's help and, besides, he's too tired to argue. So he nods slowly, saying, "I need... I need to sleep, Cas." He feels almost weak admitting that, admitting that he needs Cas's help for that because he has a feeling that, now that he's experienced falling asleep next to Castiel, it's going to become increasingly difficult to fall asleep without him. "Can we do what we did earlier?"

"Of course," Cas answers, and then he's guiding Dean to the bedroom. Dean sits on the bed while Cas searches his rucksack for something, and the next thing Dean knows, Cas is in front of him, holding a white t-shirt and some sweatpants. "Are these okay? They're all I have."

Dean smiles fondly. "They're perfect, Cas, thank you."

Cas nods and leaves the room with his own set of clothing in order to change into his own clothes. Dean changes as quickly as he can (which, honestly, isn't that quick because every time he moves his head spins and his vision whites out momentarily), and then Cas is coming back in and shoving their laundry into his rucksack. He smiles shyly at Dean who just stares, heart swelling at the sight of the person he can finally call _his_. He never thought he'd actually make it here, to be able to have a full, emotional connection besides a best friend or a brother. This is something he shares with Cas that no one else does, and something that he shares with no one else. It's terrifying but, at the same time, it makes him feel safer than he ever has.

"C'mere," he says, as he had earlier, holding his hand out for Cas as he sits down on the bed. A lot more confident than last time, Cas takes Dean's hand and joins him on the bed. Dean lies down, tugging Cas down with him and Cas lies down, too, facing away from Dean so Dean can crawl as close as possible towards him and wraps his arm around his waist to pull him even closer and intertwines their fingers. He presses his nose into the juncture between Cas's neck and shoulder and tangles their legs together and, already, this is better than earlier because there's no doubt in his mind that this is okay because it's just him and Cas and it's perfect.

He doesn't know what is going to happen when they return to the bunker, how he's going to react when he sees Sam. But he knows that Cas is here and it'll be okay between them, no matter what, because Cas understands, because they've got each other and that's what matters. That's all that matters.


End file.
